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“It’s nice to know I can turn you guys against one another if the need should ever arise,” I teased.
“A theatrical Yoko Ono,” Dorian praised. “But more talented, of course.”
Andy looked flustered at suddenly being the target of everyone’s anger. It made me feel bad for a moment, until he said, “I have decided to cancel our date.”
“What!”
“I will take my good friend Ryan out instead. What do you say?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m in,” Ryan said. Skin slapped as they high-fived over my head.
“No!” I said. “I want to go on the date!”
A tiny smile crept onto Andy’s stoic face. “Perhaps I will change my mind by the time we get home.”
I smiled ruefully. I suppose I deserve that.
I stole glances at Andy as we hopped on the train back home. I typically liked confident guys—what woman didn’t?—but there was something absolutely adorable about the bashful way Andy had asked me out. Like he was afraid I would say no. The only way it could have been any cuter is if he passed me a note with a “do you like me yes/no” option, teenager style. I was looking forward to getting to know him. The date was a good opportunity, since we hadn’t really spent any other time together.
Besides, his was the most complicated of the arrangements. Dorian wanted friendship. Boom, easy. Ryan wanted a fuck-buddy. Slightly more complicated, but done.
Andy wanted a potentially long-term relationship. There were a lot more hiccups along the way. We had to enjoy being around each other, we had to have emotional chemistry, and then we had to have physical chemistry—if we even got to that point. Out of all the guys, my situation with Andy was most likely to fail.
But for now, like all first dates, it was full of excitement and potential. Anything could happen.
Beyond that, I was excited to go out. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a real date. I just never had the time. Rehearsal being canceled gave us a rare opportunity that wouldn’t mean staying out until midnight.
I wonder where he’s going to take me. He seemed like he’d been thinking about it. More than just a dinner-and-a-movie situation. Something more fun.
We got home and split off. I went up to my room, and was pleasantly reminded that I now had my full wardrobe here rather than one set of clothes and three pairs of underwear. I needed to do laundry, but that could wait a day or two. Did we have a washer and dryer here? I didn’t see one when they gave me a tour of the place.
As I started picking out my favorite outfits, I realized I didn’t know how dressy I should be. Andy might be taking me to a fancy restaurant, and I sure as hell didn’t want to feel under-dressed twice in one day.
I went downstairs and poked my head in his room. “Andy?”
Dorian was reclined on one of the twin beds reading a magazine. “He just got out of the shower.” He jerked his head toward the bathroom door.
I approached and knocked. “Andy? How dressy should I be tonight? You’re taking me to Per Se, right? Nothing more casual than an evening gown?”
On the bed, Dorian chuckled.
The bathroom door cracked open, and through the steamy air I caught a glimpse of Andy’s body. A towel protected his groin—held there with his hand, not wrapped around his whole body. There was almost zero body fat on him; the muscles and veins practically jumped out like a child’s pop-up book, especially the vein that ran across his pelvis. He didn’t just have a six-pack; he had an eight-pack, with two extra ab muscles peeking up from the towel. He was toned like fucking Brad Pitt from Fight Club.
Andy looked tall and stringy when he wore clothes. Now I could see my assumptions were far from the truth.
Holy shit.
“I hope that’s a joke,” Andy said, “because I don’t think I could afford a table at Per Se unless I saved up for a year.”
I had to force myself to focus on what we’d been talking about. The date. Right. What I had to wear.
Good lord. He’s like an anime caricature of a ripped dude.
“Definitely a joke,” I said. Was I sweating, or was it the steam from the bathroom clinging to my forehead? “So, uh, how dressy do I need to be?”
“Not at all,” Andy said. “Well, don’t wear yoga pants and a ratty t-shirt. Dress nice, but comfortably. We’re going to be having fun.”
“Ohh, I like fun!”
